


skeletons out for the taking

by lategenocide



Series: this is keshi. [4]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Ambiguous Relationships, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, M/M, Self-Indulgent, a mess, are they boyfies or are they not yet who knows, inspired by keshi's skeletons, jeno is a runaway, mention of fake identity, renjun is emotionless, runnign away, they have good chemistry, underlying pain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-14
Updated: 2020-10-14
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:02:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27001672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lategenocide/pseuds/lategenocide
Summary: Jeno returned the look with a sardonic smile, “I’ll visit you by the lake house.”By the unmoved expression, Renjun probably didn’t think it was funny. He reached into his bag, clearly searching for something. Jeno heard the faint clinking of metal before Renjun pulled out a fisted hand, letting it hover between them. Mystified, Jeno put out an open hand and Renjun dropped a single key chain into his palm, a silver key hanging from it.
Relationships: Huang Ren Jun/Lee Jeno
Series: this is keshi. [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1746751
Comments: 2
Kudos: 19





	skeletons out for the taking

**Author's Note:**

> hellO i'm back surprisingly fast this time lmaoo,,, so orginally was a chensung but i decided the voice that as orginally jisung' didn't feel right, so i replaced him with renjun and changed it into a reno. in hindsight, renle mightve also worked but maybe later? also this series is getting longer and longer with each addition oops.
> 
> inspired by keshi's skeletons!

“What do you want?” The first time Jeno ever had a real conversation with Renjun, it was surprisingly Renjun who initiated. He didn’t count the snatches of trivial exchanges during club time, between practice sparring matches and drills. Each faint small talk came with curious glances their way- something a bit odd for a stranger of the club, but it came with the territory of being  _ Jeno _ \- well, to the team, his name was  _ Hyunsik _ , he’d paid money for that identity and couldn’t risk being known by his real name- and  _ Renjun _ in the club because they were oddities. 

Perhaps it was the heady triumph of another tournament won or the mellow, casual feeling of a late-night meal with the team that had worn down his mental guards, because, at that moment, Jeno answered truthfully, “To be buried with my secrets.” it probably wasn’t what Renjun had intended, for he’d been opening a menu, but it was the answer Jeno gave and was now too lazy to correct himself. 

Luckily, for Jeno, most of the team were too engrossed in their own loud banter to notice the quick- and culturally odd- exchange between them. 

Renjun had scoffed, set down the menu, and said, “Your expressions are so open that anyone could guess them if they bothered.”

It was true, so Jeno took no offense in the words. He shrugged, “No one here would bother.”

“You’re lucky they’re all too engrossed in their own interpersonal affairs for yours,” Renjun returned, opening the menu again. “What do you want?”

Jeno leaned over Renjun’s shoulder, “Waffles and fried chicken. Oh, and the shrimp combo.”

“It’s the middle of the season,” Renjun commented. “Coach will flip if you’re over your weight category.”

“My metabolism will back me up.”

“Sure it will.”

Something sealed  _ them _ in that one moment. Jeno had always known Renjun to mince words and pay little attention or politeness to their fellow teammates, but he was a fierce and needed member of the club, so no one really thought to complain about him. To Jeno though, he was more than just a teammate- not in any romantic sense- he’d never been allowed that luxury- Renjun understood the exhaustion of a constantly raised guard. 

He was right though, about Jeno. It would only be that reason why he would be roped into the same standing as Renjun. At least he was a bit friendlier, not that Jeno ever let them take bits and pieces of him willingly, whereas Renjun completely ignored most of the others who tried to talk to him.

For a bit, some of the members seemed to take the favoritism personally. Jeno wanted to assure them it wasn’t anything they’d like to be roped into, but to his relief, once they all heard snippets of Renjun’s cryptic and rude remarks, they seemed to drop the envy. Now, they occasionally glanced at him with pity, which also wasn’t needed. Jeno didn’t bother saying anything in regards to that matter either, because it would be a waste of his breath. 

The second time they talked, Jeno had impulsively grabbed Renjun by the loose sleeve of his uniform, tugging him back as everyone else filed out the club’s front doors, exhausted and brain dead for the walk back home. 

Renjun had looked back at him with this impassively stare, silent as he waited for Jeno to speak up. 

“What do you know about me?” Jeno asked, completely without context. Renjun would get it. There was not much of a need for context. Jeno had dug too deep into the secrets of Huang Renjun and he knew what little paper trails and bodies he’d left in his wake, Renjun had snatched up in retaliation. In the most awful way, their puzzle pieces connected. Jeno’s heartbeat was adrenaline-induced, beating because it needed to as he kept pushing forward without his brother to shelter him. 

“You will die if you stay another month here,” Renjun replied. “You’re a runaway with speed to go to the Olympics, but you have blood on your hands that are not yours.” Jeno’s hand tightened around the white cloth of Renjun’s uniform. 

“That’s a light-hearted way to state it,” he said, hoping he sounded as steady as he thought he did. “Does your father care if you're hanging around a Lee heir without precautions, or is he taking advantage of it?”

Renjun snatched his sleeve away from Jeno’s grip and started walking. Jeno followed him, and by how Renjun didn’t flip him over his shoulder, he assumed it was the right move to make.

“Don’t ask me stupid questions,” Renjun said finally. “There are always precautions and my father cannot take advantage of what he does not know about.”

“You didn’t tell him?” 

“Why would I? You are no one and nothing to me, bringing your corpse to my father’s office would only result in more busywork for me.”

Jeno’s smile was dry, “You intend to only bring him my corpse?” 

“Have you heard yourself talk?” Renjun replied with a condensing eye. “My father would not be pleased if I brought him a specimen that talked as much as you do. Sometimes I’m surprised they put up with you.” It was a dismissal upfront, but Jeno had better intuition than the rest of his teammates. Renjun wouldn’t be a danger to any of them- none of them had a surname that would provoke familial interest. Ironically enough, the one person who would ever provoke interest was currently following the only heir to the Huang syndicates around.

“They like me enough to not kick me out now, don’t they?”

“Don’t be delusional. They only pity you and your poor IQ.”

“ _ Thanks _ .” Jeno retorted. 

A soft, contemptuous  _ heh _ escaped Renjun’s mouth, “A little bit of cynicism won’t hurt with someone as reckless as you,” It wasn’t a laugh or a joke by any means, but it was the best anyone would get from him in private life. Renjun stopped in front of an apartment complex- his, Jeno realized with a startle. He had failed to notice the direction they had been walking. He knew for a fact that Renjun’s villa was in the opposite direction.

“Oh,” Jeno said, avoiding the urge to glance at his apartment floor. “Thanks.”

“Don’t get yourself killed,” Renjun replied, by way of a farewell. 

“I won’t,” Jeno answered, knowing the other wouldn’t believe it, but Renjun was already walking towards the sunset. 

  
  
  


Competition season, in one word: hell. Jeno was more bulk then bones, which meant he joined most everyone in a diet in an attempt to fit into his weight category. Renjun, on the other hand, was asked to add weight. One more thing that made them vastly different. 

Jeno didn’t mind too much though, but that was only when they were  _ at _ tournaments. He somehow got paired up with Renjun for team sparring ( maybe his coach had been watching them interact- according to the long time club members, coach had been looking to pair Renjun up with someone for team sparring, but never did get the chance- Renjun outright refused to cooperate with any of the senior members. Jeno was probably his chance to exploit Renjun’s talents for another trophy to put on the wall. ). 

Coach had a good eye though, he had to admit. Two traumatized heirs against martial artists hobbyists was no contest. Not that coach would know much about their personal lives. Even in a 2 versus 3 situation, with backs to each other, Jeno and Renjun managed to outscore their opponents a five point margin. Pretty good for the sparring mat, possibly fatal on the run. Even if Jeno won the current fight, it didn’t mean he would be so much better off. He could be just as dead as his opponent in a few hours. 

Jeno clapped hands with his teammates as he stepped off the mat, following Renjun’s heels. In a few rounds, they would have the first place coach wanted to have.

“Put ice on your wrist,” Renjun tossed him a chilled ice pack. Jeno stood, dumbfounded. Renjun fixed him with an annoyed stare. “You blocked the red belt’s ax kick at an odd angle.” 

“Oh, right,” Jeno said, slapping the ice pack onto his throbbing wrist. He wasn’t really thinking when he saw the ax kick coming. It was another aim at him, and he probably should’ve redirected it better, but sometimes, his instincts lagged behind. Sort of frustrating, for he was only nineteen, not thirty. 

“ _ Oh right _ ,” Renjun mocked. “The coach will hound both of us if you let us loose with that wrist, and I don’t have the patience to put up with him.” He meant he would probably do something far too drastic for the annoyance caused by the coach's nagging. Jeno privately agreed, but he was no fool to not grab the chance to snipe back.

“Your patience is pretty selective,” he observed. “You seemed to find me annoying enough, but you’ve yet to do anything.” That comment earned him a sharp glance, and a graceless curve of Renjun’s lips.

“Oh don’t worry,” he replied. “I’m sure someone else will do the dirty work for me.” 

  
  
  


They won, despite Jeno’s sore wrist. The coach whistled some old timey song as they all gathered onto the bus back home, noisy and calling for another round of food at the buffet. It was probably because there were more than several medals and trophies collected during the season so far that the coach agreed, even as so to be generous enough to pay himself, instead of taking advantage of the club’s card. Jeno was sure he would regret it when he was barely able to pay his way the next day for coffee.

Giddy with success, the team crowded up several tables at the all you can eat buffet by the highway, tossing food onto their plates haphazardly. Renjun found a quiet table in the corner to avoid the jostling of the team, and Jeno joined him without invitation.

  
  
  


Someone was watching him.

It was not Renjun, because Renjun only was with him from after school to the end of club or tournament endings at most, and someone was watching him  _ all _ the time. He just didn’t know who. Trying to figure out the persons behind it was about as fruitful as sorting through all the henchmen his father had under his thumb. Which was to say, harder than he was usually experienced with.

It was disconcerting, so Jeno started changing up his habits again. He was getting too settled here. There was too much risk for him here, now that someone was tracking him. Somehow, he was going to have to throw them off his tracks. Disappear.

“Someone is tracking you,” Renjun said one day, a week into it. 

“Yes,” Jeno said. 

Renjun flicked him a look, “You’re going.”

He was. He would miss the club when he did. His getaway pack was already packed, sitting in the corner, waiting for the month to end. There was money and another identity in it for him when he chose to withdraw and run. 

Jeno returned the look with a sardonic smile, “I’ll visit you by the lake house.” 

By the unmoved expression, Renjun probably didn’t think it was funny. He reached into his bag, clearly searching for something. Jeno heard the faint clinking of metal before Renjun pulled out a fisted hand, letting it hover between them. Mystified, Jeno put out an open hand and Renjun dropped a single key chain into his palm, a silver key hanging from it.

It felt like the world was rebuilding and destroying itself at the same time. Jeno had an apartment for himself, but it was just for appearances. In order to keep passing as a senior, he needed a place to write down on the registration forms. The key that the landlord tossed him was just a tool to keep his cover story. This was not part of any of it.

“You can have only so many issues,” Renjun said, snapping Jeno out of his stupor. Jeno stared at him with unanswered questions filling his features. “It’s a safe house.”

“It won’t be safe anymore if you let me in,” Jeno replied finally. Renjun paid his poor attempt at a retort with a bored look. His disinterest in Jeno’s psychological well being was both relieving and damning at the same time, like he knew Jeno had monsters he couldn’t outrun, and couldn’t be free of until he was caught.

After a long pause, Renjun waved a dismissive hand, “Houses can be torn down or moved. It doesn’t matter,”Jeno could feel some stares their way, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. This was both so much in line with his personal image of Renjun and so unlike him that he managed to crack a smile. It was equally heartbroken and happy.

“Truth looks terrible on you,” Renjun said, gesturing vaguely for Jeno to stop smiling.

“You shouldn’t encourage lying.”

“You are a liar through and through, it doesn't matter if I discourage your honesty. You look better as a lie.”

“Are you saying I look hot?” 

“I said you look better. Don’t twist my words to inflate your ego,” Renjun replied, walking out the door. Jeno wanted to follow him out, but there was a real dismissal in his words, so he hung back, much to the delight of  _ several _ nosy teammates. Nowadays, it had become a habit for Renjun and Jeno to walk home together, and during club time, no one wanted to risk being in earshot of Renjun. Jeno staying behind was a golden opportunity to satisfy the gossipy itch in their backs. 

“You guys are close, Hyungsik,” Donghyuck said as he slung an arm over Jeno’s shoulder. There was a grin on his mischievous lips. Other than Renjun ( or Jeno now, apparently ), Donghyuck was one of the more outstanding members of the club. Chenle, Sungchan, and Yangyang followed close behind.

Jeno shrugged him off, “Only sort of.”

“Sure,” Donghyuck scoffed in disbelief. “He hasn’t spoken more than a hundred words to me since he stepped foot in here. It’s been three years. But he talks to you?” The last sentence was a question, but it was definitely more of an accusation. 

“Maybe if you had secrets, he would,” Jeno replied, shrugging off Donghyuck’s arm.

The suggestion made Chenle laugh, shoving Donghyuck by the shoulder playfully, “Hyung, you’ve got about zero.” Jeno felt a bit envious of that. He had secrets- secrets too loud for him to stay in one place for long, or to make any friends. His father was long dead, and his untested presence was a threat to the Huang Empire that had been steadily working its way to influence over the last decade. Then, his brother had murdered his father in a fit rage- he thought it was a herculean miracle at first, but the older he’d gotten, the more he’d realized no one was immune to gunshots, not even his brother. 

Jeno picked up his bag. darting out of their reach with the best speed he could muster and out the back door. Renjun stood by the sidewalk a few meters away- a sudden rush of unexpected relief flowed through his body as if the dam had been broken and a river was rushing free. He quickened his pace, nearly ramming into Renjun’s side. 

The other regarded him with a look, “You’re late,” he said. 

Jeno frowned, but he couldn’t find the will to be annoyed with Renjun’s particularities, especially now that he was out of grasp of Donghyuck’s hands, where he was certainly going to be bombarded with questions he didn’t have any safe answers to. 

“You dismissed me first,” he replied without heat. 

There was a soft sound of humorless laughter from him, “So you  _ are _ better at reading cue than your blockheaded teammates.” 

“Maybe because you don’t interact with them enough,” Jeno jabbed back. “According to primary sources, you haven’t spoken much to them in the five years you’ve been here.” As he spoke, Renjun started the walk across the street, but Jeno managed to keep up. He took his momentary silence as a cold tantrum. 

“They’re not interesting.”

“And I am?” Jeno asked, somewhat incredulously. 

Renjun barely flicked him a look under the blearily streetlight, the warm beige tone of a light filtering through a window illuminating his facial features. “No. I am only waiting for the day I get to watch your body get buried without proper burial traditions.”

“You won’t be there,” Jeno quirked up a corner of his mouth, but it wasn’t funny. “I’ll probably be dumped in a forest where even your father’s influence couldn’t reach.”

This time that Renjun smiled, there was humor there- but his humor was both cruel and misplaced. “Oh no, you’ll end up in the same cemetery where all my father’s untested threats go. The entire package, as they like to say.” Jeno thought it a terrible fate, at least he would know where he would rest when he was dead. It was more of a body dump then anything, according to his father henchmen that he used to be saddled with, where all the people whom the Huangs decided could not be tested or trusted went after they were beaten and killed. A different sort of fate, certainly. 

“Well, at least I have a role, even if it’s just a side character named ‘Threat 36’. It sounds better to not even show up at all,” Jeno remarked, not all that impressed. 

“Your number wouldn’t even break five hundred. Don’t think too highly of yourself, lest it heightens your ego even more,” Renjun replied.

Jeno quirked up both of his eyebrows, “What makes you think I have an ego? I’m an orphaned heir to a collapsing syndicate with a dwindling supply of money.” That was about as honest as he’d been to anyone- especially himself- out loud. He wouldn’t last much longer. He could maybe squeeze in another three, maybe fours years before risking reuse of an old identity, if he made it that for. With someone watching him, he guessed maybe two more years at best. Barely one by his worst case scenario calculations, even if he was gone by next week. 

“And here you are, following me around blindly,” Renjun replied. “Did you even notice we’re not going towards your apartment?” Startled, Jeno took in his surroundings once more. The night market was fast approaching them- lanterns hanging from strung rope and food vendors being crowded up with customers.

“No,” Jeno admitted, practicing some honesty since he’d already been caught. Renjun let out a crude snort. “Since we’re here, let’s just get some spicy tteokbokki. My treat.” He grasped the sleeve of Renjun’s jacket, dragging him along to the nearest stall. Jeno paid the grandmother manning it for two bowls of spicy tteokbokki and pushed one of them into Renjun’s hands.

“You said your cash was dwindling,” Renjun said, not quite a question or a statement but entirely filled with disapproval. 

Jeno stabbed the small skewer that the grandmother had put in his hands into a piece of rice cake, and held it up for Renjun, “Humor me,” he said. “I’m dying, remember? Think of it as my last meal, or whatever. Besides, it’s just tteokbokki, it won’t break the bank by any means.” 

Renjun took the rice cake from Jeno’s hand and took a hilariously dignified bite, “You don’t have a bank to break.”

It was a terrible attempt at a joke, but a stupid grin spread over Jeno’s face nonetheless.

  
  
  


Jeno took off for the next city over in the middle of classes two days later. Luckily, he had wisely chosen a seat far from the windows, meaning it was much more difficult to spot him from the outside. He went through the back of the school, sneaking away and onto a bus after ditching the school uniform for something drab and forgettable. The memory of Renjun’s face in the bustle of the night market less than forty eight hours earlier arose without warning, the soft plans of his face making his aloof eyes a bit warmer in the warm tone lantern lights.

“Ah, seriously,” he grumbled to himself as he shrank down in his seat. The seats on the bus were nearly full, but the uncomfortable feeling of being watched had been gone since he ditched the rest of classes. If anything, he certainly wouldn’t miss listening to the monotonous lecture on Korean history in the fifth period. 

He’d miss the club though, and Renjun especially. It had barely been a school year’s worth of meetings and exchanges, but it was enough for him to develop feelings of attachment to that place and the people that he had trained so hard with. Briefly, he wondered if Renjun would inform them he would no longer be showing for him when they noticed he wasn’t there. 

Jeno let out a sudden grumble, chastising himself for getting caught up in the nuances of deep interpersonal relationships. They didn’t have a place in his world, not when he was practically a corpse walking towards his grave. 

  
  
  


He was nearing the shady ferry boats when shots rang out.

It was such a shame. Jeno had practically backpacked his way through several cities just to reach a seaside town in a route that wouldn’t be easily traced, although it wasn’t easy and made a small dent in his cash. He didn’t dare to do anything rash, but it seemed like he was found despite his efforts, even by the people he  _ wasn’t _ directly running from. 

A voice called, “Hold it, Lee Jeno!” as Jeno scampered through the weed growth and towards the waters. He dove for some kind of cover, but nonetheless, he could feel a bullet graze his calf. Blood and pain was immediate, but at least he didn’t have a bullet stuck in his body. He zigzagged through the wet, muddy marshes, dodging bullets and trying to figure out a way to escape the gunfire. 

It was already tough, but more pursuers emerged from the marshals as if they were the spirits of the land, all with bulletproof equipment and guns aimed straight at him.

“NIS! Put your hands where I can see them!” Jeno paused completing his choices. The gunfire had certainly stopped, but his natural instinct was to not trust authority.

“Put your hands where I can see them!” the first person shouted again. Jeno decided dying by using snark with the national security agents was a pretty good idea, so his hands went up as he slowly stood up, a wolfish, rebellious smile on his face.

“What are you, a broken record? I heard you the first time,” he mocked brightly, mimicking the same tone he’d often hear his brother use when asserting his dominance. He was dead now, so that shows the effectiveness of it. 

“You’re under arrest for being an accomplice to Lee Heesung’s murder and being in cahoots with the Huang empire, you have one minute to surrender and come under our custody,” the same person shouted, ignoring Jeno’s jab. He was a bit disappointed by the lack of reaction, but he had been faced with Renjun’s impassive face expression for nearly nine months, so it wasn’t all that different.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” Jen replied cheerfully. “I’m busy, gotta go!” he kicked up mud towards their faces, diving for cover and running as shots started firing again. As far as he was concerned, there were no pros to giving up any information he had. The Huang syndicate would have him tortured worse than the NIS.

He didn’t get cocky, he knew that the marshes and low hanging trees wouldn’t be the perfect cover- nothing was- but there was a pain through his abdomen and there was a splash before he fainted.

  
  
  


When he came to, he wasn’t on the wait list for hell.

Instead, Renjun was staring down at him, a faint twitch of a smile on his lips. He was on a bed in a blank, gloomy looking room. Everything was some shade of white or grey. Terrible for uplifting a sour mood.

“This looks like hell,” Jeno commented, delirious. “But you’re supposed to be alive.”

“I am,” Renjun agreed. “And so are you. You won. My father won’t kill you, unless you don’t want your father’s syndicate- since you passed my test.”

“Test?” The word coming out of Renjun’s mouth seemed foreign to Jeno’s ears. He stared blankly at him, this expressionless heir he’d been talking to for  _ months _ without suspecting a thing. He shuffled through the memories, thinking of the key Renjun had dropped into his palm that night. 

“I’m safe,” Jeno mumbled. He stared back up at Renjun in disbelief. “Are you serious?” It felt like a dream. He was safe. He didn’t have to run. He should be angry with Renjun for being able to deceive him, but relief was a stronger emotion then the faint twinge of betrayal. Their world worked differently then others. Tests were a fact, not a device to test a student’s memorizing abilities. He would get over it.

Renjun raised an eyebrow, “Were you paying attention the first time? I said, don’t ask me stupid questions.”

It was so typical of Renjun, comforting even, to know the personality problem wasn’t a front, that Jeno smiled, a soft laugh escaping him, although it probably wasn’t all that funny. 

**Author's Note:**

> what'd you think? i tried for a happier ending-ish, so let me know your thoughts if you have any <3 sorry about the self-indulgent mess of a fic this is ahhhhhh


End file.
